1916

by Gabriel Doherty

  Archbishop Walsh, it might be noted, came under some pressure on Easter Monday night from James O’Connor, a law officer working in Dublin Castle, who was later knighted for his services to the British Crown. He was attending the race meeting at Fairyhouse when he heard of the Rising. Hurrying back to Dublin, he called at archbishop’s house at about 6pm. Walsh received him briefly in a room off his bedroom. Fr Patrick Walsh, a secretary to the archbishop and subsequently his biographer, had a brief word with the departing O’Connor as he was driving away. The archbishop talked with his secretary immediately after the interview. He had found O’Connor to be excited and panicky. The lawyer wanted the archbishop to write a letter calling on the insurgents to desist from their mad enterprise. The archbishop refused. He spoke to his secretary of the effrontery of O’Connor and the British government for trying to make a cat’s paw of him. In the presence of O’Connor, he had denounced the incompetence of a government that had allowed blood to be spilt. The archbishop spoke to him of the folly of a rising that could only end in defeat. Finally, he called on the government to resign and that, if they did not do so, they ought to be superseded. Walsh did not like the tactics of Dublin Castle. They had sent a Catholic law officer to him to secure his condemnation of the Rising. He refused to do so. But that did not prevent Fr Walsh writing in his book that: ‘Dr Walsh, archbishop of Dublin, expressed his detestation of it [the Rising] in an interview I had with him on Easter Monday of 1916.’70 The archbishop did not, however, break his public silence at this point.

  Eoin MacNeill’s composure deserted him momentarily in his home at Woodtown on hearing of the uprising. Falling on his knees, he placed his head on his wife’s lap as he broke down and wept. ‘Everything is ruined,’ he said. He recovered quickly. On the Wednesday his home was visited by Arthur Griffith. He had cycled from Clontarf to Woodtown via Lucan and Templeogue. While neither man approved of the Rising, both agreed that something had to be done to try to bring forces to the relief of the men who were besieged in Dublin. But it was decided that effective action was impossible. Realising that the British would attempt to teach the Irish a lesson, MacNeill had sought to prevent further violence by sending a letter, probably on Tuesday 2 May, to General Maxwell, the commander of the British forces. Anxious that the British might provoke further bloodshed, he offered to try to prevent the spread of violence between the Volunteers and the British forces. His son, Niall, was the courier. Maxwell sent a car to MacNeill’s house to bring him to headquarters. He did not see Maxwell then, but was promptly arrested and taken to Arbour Hill. He saw Maxwell instead on Wednesday 3 May, but there was no meeting of minds. He had heard the executions taking place in the yard below on both the Tuesday and Wednesday. Taken out for exercise on Thursday morning, he walked between the wall against which the leaders had been shot and firing squads rehearsing for further action with empty rifles.71

  In the midst of the executions, the Bishop of Down and Connor, Joseph MacRory, writing to Michael O’Riordan in Rome on 4 May 1916, may have summed up what the archbishop of Dublin was thinking:

  The Dublin affair is a shocking and idiotic tragedy. It was engineered by a few desperate socialists and a few sincere but silly patriots. Of course it had no chance whatever of succeeding. The danger is that it may have succeeded in gravely injuring Ireland’s constitutional cause. Peace is restored everywhere. Belfast remained quiet, thank God, throughout all the excitements.72

  On 8 May Curran wrote a long, descriptive letter to Hagan reviewing what had happened in Dublin:

  We have had a terrible fortnight since and we have tasted of the horrors of war and don’t want any more. It is all a nightmare and I can hardly bear to [think] about it. The whole thing was terribly foolish and tragic! I told you in my last letter that the danger of a collision with the police [and] troops seemed to be at an end, as on that day MacNeill ordered the Easter meeting of the Volunteers should not take place. An attempt to nullify the orders by the extremists was met by a second order from MacNeill authenticating his previous orders, and these orders were obeyed.73

  Curran then described what happened next:

  What was our dismay on Easter Monday to hear about 12.20 that the GPO was taken by the Volunteers and that the Castle was attacked! It was hard to realise that here in the year 1916 we were back in 1798 and that the Rising was at our very doors, largely by people known to every Dublin man. It would appear that the Larkin crowd leader, James Connolly, the secret soc. men headed by T[om] Clarke and an extreme fanatical section of the Volunteers headed by Padraic Pearse, MacDonagh and Kent, determined on Sunday evening to rise! There seems to be all too convincing evidence that they had conspired with the Germans through the Clan na Gael, or directly, for such a rising and that they used the Irish Volunteers for their own purposes. MacNeill was latterly a mere figure-head in their hands. I fancy MacNeill must have got wind of what was on late on Good Friday or on Holy Thursday. Many say he cancelled the orders for the Easter assembly of the Volunteers – probably on hearing of Casement’s appearance in Kerry.

  He continued:

  The extremists, seeing that the stopping of the Easter demonstration would spoil their plans, circulated the reports that the cancelling of the Easter parades was a bogus command – a government dodge. John MacNeill thereupon sent out in all directions new commands authenticating his former command. I saw some myself, for his sister came here in a pitiable state about 3pm on Easter Sunday with copies of them, signed by MacNeill. He wanted the Abp [archbishop] to get the priests to stop the assembly.

  He explained further:

  At any rate the Connolly-Clarke-Pearse section summoned their men. I have no doubt whatever that very few knew what really was on. The rank and file were composed of young men, very many only 15–17, who formed the Volunteers (1) to counteract Carson’s, (2) to be prepared against conscription. These did not want rebellion, though they were prepared, as I warned you, to resist disarmament. Some believed that disarmament was immediately at hand and were quite prepared for resistance, but very many only thought that it was one of the usual route marches. You need have no doubt about these facts for we have all met several instances of such cases during the terrible crisis. Rebellion was the last thing they dreamed of.

  Curran was convinced that:

  It was the strong men of extreme views that stampeded the whole thing and compromised all. MacNeill was no match for such men and the only strong thing he did was resolutely to refuse [to] countenance them and he certainly saved a general rising all over the country. His words were everywhere obeyed, except to a small extent in Cork city. The risings in the country were due to the news from Dublin on Wednesday and Thursday. We were saved the prospect of a German invasion.

  He continued:

  The Rising was very nearly being a terribly serious one. Had John MacNeill’s orders not been sent and obeyed, we would have had a score of Dublins over the country. The Rising would not be over yet and the entire country would have had to be [deployed] with soldiers and starved and burned.

  He noted that ‘the material damage done in Dublin is immense’. He also described what it was like to live under martial law: ‘We must be indoors at 8.30. Houses are searched for arms and papers. Letters are opened and afford abundant material for prosecution and arrests are being made wholesale.’74

  What was the reaction of other members of the hierarchy to these events? The Bishop of Ardagh and Clonmacnois, Joseph Hoare, called it a ‘mad and sinful adventure’. The Bishop of Ross, Denis Kelly, told his congregation in Skibbereen that he could see no justification for it and that ‘on those to blame for it was the guilt of murder’.75 The Archbishop of Cashel, John Harty, admired and supported the Irish Volunteers. But his initial reaction to the Rising was one of criticism. He told a congregation in St Michael’s church, Tipperary, on 7 May:

  We all know that the people of Ireland at large do not want any revolutionary measures … We are perfectly well aware that the people of Ireland believe
that by constitutional means they can obtain substantial redress of their grievances. The history of the past has shown that all revolutionary measures are doomed to failure.76

  Similar comments were made by the Archbishop of Tuam, John Healy.

  Professor Whyte has described the spectrum of reaction among the other bishops, placing the Bishop of Killaloe, Michael Fogarty, and the Bishop of Limerick, Edward Thomas O’Dwyer, as being more on the advanced nationalist side.77 Jumping forward a month, to 14 June, Michael Fogarty gave an address at Quin, Co. Clare, on the Rising. It was harsh in its criticisms of the British authorities. Writing to Michael O’Riordan on 16 June, he described the political situation thus:

  There are Sinn Féin and sinn féin – those on for rebellion, those short of that in pursuit of the preservation of Irish ideals, religion, moral social etc. The former were few, the great body belonged to the latter class. Practically all Irish Ireland has gone over since the rebellion to this latter class. That is: they don’t want rebellion. But the brutal shootings and deportations of their young insurgents after surrender has filled the country with indignation and roused such an anti English feeling as I never saw before.78

  As regards the priests, Bishop Fogarty said that there was only one priest in all Ireland who joined the rebels, as far as the bishops’ sources showed. Fogarty had about 150 priests and ‘not one of them was connected with rebellion’. The same was true of all Munster as far as he knew. But, he claimed, it suited county inspectors to make sweeping statements without precision:

  It is quite true that a great many, mainly most of the young priests, were in sympathy with Volunteers, Sinn Féin etc. but not for rebellion. No one knew rebellion was in the air until the thunder broke. They were in these movements because they aid Irish ideals, as opposed to English, American sensualistic materialism, and as a defence against the threatened attack from Carson’s Orangemen. For this it was not the priests who [word unclear] these movements: the usual thing happened; this Irish sap rose simultaneously in young Irishmen whether their call was lay or cleric. The priests were merely exponents of a general sentiment which washed all around them, as in the Land League days. So at this moment the whole country has gone Sinn Féin as a result of the stupid brutal shooting of the insurgents – not that they want or mean to have rebellion: they simply have turned deadly sour, and have lost all sympathy with England.

  Fogarty wrote that he did not have time to give O’Riordan a more detailed account, as he was away every day on visitations. In summary, however, he concluded that ‘the Freeman has become rotten’ and ‘the Irish party (William O’Brien excepted) has fallen into disrepute. The people resent their language and apathy about the insurgents.’ He felt that the chances of home rule being accepted ‘with part of Ulster cut off are very problematical’. It was a wise man who would say what was wisest. Before signing off, he gave the news ‘Bishop of Cork is dead – going to funeral’ and ‘Limerick is Ireland’s one man at present’.79

  In Cork, meanwhile, Daniel Cohalan, the then auxiliary bishop, along with the Lord Mayor, T.C. Butterfield, and the High Sheriff, William Harte, sent a telegram to the lord lieutenant, John Redmond and the prime minister protesting against further executions.80 On 16 May Cohalan, along with Butterfield, Harte, and the chairman of Cork City Council, W.M. Murphy, wrote another letter to the lord lieutenant. Published in the Cork Examiner on 17 May, the letter deemed ‘it our duty to place on record our protest against the continuance of arrests throughout the country and the further detention of a large number of those who, during the panic of the past two weeks, have been placed under arrest, and in many cases deported’. They did not consider that the state of the country warranted the continuance of those measures any longer. On the contrary, they believed that the ‘unrest was thereby prolonged’. There were cases of arrested men where charges could not be brought against them and, in other cases, men were detained because they were members of the Irish Volunteers. The latter did not constitute an offence against the law of the realm. The signatories felt it was ‘the bounden duty of the authorities to have these cases investigated without delay’ and to provide facilities so that they could make their defence.81 On 2 July 1916 Cohalan wrote to O’Riordan at the Irish College:

  My letter gives in outline a history of the late eventful Easter week in Cork: and as you can see we did not make much history in Cork. I sent my letter to London to be printed; got it censored in London; and then taken by the Press Association. That got it a wide circulation.82

  Overall, therefore, it can be seen that Cohalan, who succeeded in August to the bishopric of Cork, was cautious in his reaction to the Rising.

  The Archbishop of Dublin, meanwhile, had run into difficulties with the British military authorities. Two priests of his archdiocese had been arrested. Fr Paddy Flanagan, a curate at Ringsend, was held and sent to Richmond Barracks. Released on 9 May he gave ‘a dreadful account of the treatment of the prisoners’. Fr Mooney was detained in his own house under armed guard from noon until 6.30pm, ‘and then only freed on the promise not to leave the place for three days’.83 Walsh’s anger with General Maxwell over the executions, the extra judicial killings and the mass arrests, was palpable. The following exchange of letters was published in the Cork Examiner, dated 12 May:

  Noble priests

  General Maxwell’s appreciation

  The following ‘correspondence’ has passed between General Maxwell, Commanding the Forces in Ireland, and Archbishop Walsh:

  Headquarters, Irish Command,

  8 May 1916.

  Your Grace, - I shall be glad if you will convey to the clergy of your church my high appreciation of, and thanks for, the services rendered by them during the recent disturbances in Dublin.

  I am aware that such services were practically universal, but it is possible that Your Grace may desire to bring to notice individual cases of special gallantry or devotion.

  If such is the case, I shall be obliged if you will inform me of the names of the gentlemen in question. I am, Your Grace’s obedient servant,

  J.G. Maxwell, General,

  Commanding in chief the forces in Ireland.

  Archbishop’s house, Dublin,

  11 May 1916

  Dear Sir John Maxwell, - In reply to your letter of Monday, I beg to thank you for your gratifying testimony to the fidelity of our clergy in the discharge of their duties during the recent troubles in Dublin.

  I have been much struck by your request to be furnished with the names of the clergy in cases of special gallantry, or devotion, that I might desire to bring under your notice. But I quite concur in your view that services deserving of high praise are practically universal. Many such cases have, of course, come to my knowledge – especially amongst the clergy of my own pro-cathedral parish in Marlboro’ street and those of the Cappuchin community in Church street. But I feel that it would be invidious to treat those cases as if they were exceptional.

  Again, thanking you for your kindly letter, I remain, your faithful servant. William J. Walsh,

  Archbishop of Dublin.

  While Walsh did not immediately issue a general statement on the Rising, his exchange with Maxwell reveals how icily he regarded the British authorities. His actions spoke louder than words. On 10 May he subscribed £100 to a relief fund that had been set up by the lord mayor of Dublin.84 On 13 May, the day following the final executions, he signed a petition from the lord mayor requesting that Alderman Tom Kelly should get a fair and immediate trial. On 15 May the archbishop was invited to meet Prime Minister Asquith at the vice regal lodge. He replied that he was still an invalid and was unable to make such a call. On 23 May he received a telegram from the United States and agreed to act as chairman of the executive committee of Cardinal Farley’s Irish Distress Fund, later known as the National Aid Fund. On 27 May two members of the royal commission of inquiry into the causes of the rebellion called on him to ask his views. His answer focused on the breakdown of the constitutional movement
.

  The Bishop of Limerick, Edward O’Dwyer, was seen nationally as the hero of the hour. That is all the more surprising as he had not always been persona grata in nationalist circles in Ireland. He was a man of apparent contradictions.85 His courage and individualism were never in doubt. He showed both in his reaction to the Rising.

  He wrote to his fellow countyman, Michael O’Riordan, on 10 May from the parish of Glenroe in south Limerick. While he shared the MacRory/Curran thesis about the origins of the Rising, his letter was very revealing of his inner and, as yet, unpublished, thoughts:

  You know nearly as much about the genesis of the outbreak in Dublin as we do. The censorship has been very rigid; and it is only now that we are coming to know the simple facts as they happened. I have it from one who ought to know that the immediate cause of the outbreak was that one division of the Irish Volunteers got out of hand, and began the fight, and then the others joined rather than leave the others in the lurch. But there is no doubt that there was a really widespread reorganisation of a physical force body, and that it was only a question of time when they would come out. On Easter Saturday an order was ignored by Eoin MacNeill that the Volunteers were not to assemble on Easter Sunday, and this would point to his apprehending what occurred. Anyhow on Easter Monday large bodies of Volunteers with arms suddenly seized important points in Dublin: the post office O’Connell St, the Four Courts, the Broadstone, [word unclear] St, and Westland Row railway station, but failed in a weak attack upon the Castle. Next day troops were poured in from England, and desperate fighting took place. Asquith in H. of Commons said last night that the casualties among the military amounted to over 500. By all accounts the Volunteers fought with great bravery, but were helpless against artillery, which the military used against the [buildings] which were held by the Irish. The post office was set on fire, I believe by incendiary shells, and burned down and both sides of O’Connell st have been reduced to ruins in the same way. We have not heard the number of casualties amongst the Volunteers but it must be very great. Peirse [ sic ], who was the leader, was wounded, and when it became apparent that they could not succeed surrendered with all his forces…2,000 Volunteers have been deported to England, and it is said that they are to be sent to France. Day after day, for the last week the leaders are being tried, condemned and shot. Peirse [ sic ], a son of count Plunkett, a young fellow named McDonagh, a professor in Nat. University, and I think ten others have been shot. Scores have been sentenced to penal servitude, and no one knows where it all will stop. At Limerick, the Volunteers surrendered their arms without resistance, but whether that will save them from arrest is doubtful. In my opinion it has been reaction against the extreme Britishism of Redmond and co. The national spirit of the young men of Ireland revolted against what has been going on for a year and a half and will do the same again and again. This has been by far the most formidable rebellion since ’98 and the government may bless its stars that the Volunteers in Dublin had not more patience. In another year, no one could tell what might happen. If I were at home, I could get you more details, but here we have not even a newspaper.86